Alkine Academy

Suicidal thoughts warning! 🚨

If you or anyone you know are having any type of thoughts of suicide please call

1-800-273-8255 or hit 988 on your cellphone.

Thank you!

Two weeks.

That's how long I have lived with this fucking nightmare.

Two weeks of total despair. Two weeks of haunting memories.

The guys have been trying so hard to comfort me.

They surprised me with my own bedroom which at the time I just mumbled a thank you and walked out of it. Now it's a place where I barricade myself.

I have basically locked myself in my room, rarely venturing out of it, I hardly eat anything these days nibbling at the food mostly. I've just haven't had the appetite for anything unfortunately.

My days and nights have been spent in my bed, just dwindling away the hours. I haven't even showered in close to a week with the exception of the night that my ordeal happened.

I spent what seemed like hours roughly cleaning my skin till I was almost raw, trying to wash away the stench of him.

Ora was the one who found me, crumpled in the shower stall with the hot water pounding down me, crying for what seemed like hours.

My Uncle has tried so many times to visit me but I refuse to even look at him afraid of what he might think of me.

I'm soiled!

Spoilt goods.

I don't even want to function.

My Uncle told the Headmaster that I broken my leg and that it didn't heal properly just so I was able to miss my classes the following week of my assault.

I could care less about my classes or for that matter anything else here lately.

The guys practically begged me to go on some trip that had planned for our spring break but I refused them at every turn.

I'm ashamed. Ashamed of myself and ashamed for people to see me. What if they look at me and are able to tell that I am a victim. I don't want there pity!

I don't want anyones pity!

Sometimes I feel like I deserved what happened to me. I was naive. I was stupid. I was too damn trusting!

Maybe it is all my fault?

I don't know anymore. My mind feels like it's going explode from all the questions and no answers.

Why? Why me? What did I do to deserve this? Did I ask for it? Did I come on too strong? Was I dressed to provocatively?

On and on, over and over, all of these thoughts invade my mind.

Today I have no choice but to resume my classes regrettably. I've missed far too many days already. It's not that I care if I do or don't attend but the guys have been so adamant about it.

Advising me that I need to push myself and at least try to move on.

What do they know?

It's not like they have been through anything like this before. They don't realize how difficult this shit is! But eventually I ended up relinquishing.

Deep down I know that I have to find a way to conquer this. I just don't fucking know how?

Standing in front of the mirror I take a good look at my reflection. I hate what I see. The face looking back at me is not one that I even recognize anymore.

I use to see a confidant woman. One that was strong and willful. Now all I see a person that I absolutely hate.

I hate who I am. I hate who I have become.

"I HATE YOU!" I scream at my unwanted reflection. Balling up my fist I punch the mirror angrily. Little webs of cracked glass appear under my fist on the broken bathroom mirror. Broken. Just like me.

I start to laugh at my own dark humor.

Removing my fist from the mirror I stare down at my hand mesmerized by the little slivers of glass from the mirror embedded in my knuckles. Tiny droplets of blood are dripping out from them and on to the bathroom counter.

I vaguely hear the bathroom door opening. Someone screams my name but my mind is to fogged up to even comprehend who or what there saying.

I feel myself being lowered on to the toilet.

Just like me I'm falling.

I sit there in a complete daze not even registering the commotion around me. Not even caring.

I hate myself, the phrase keeps repeating, echoing throughout my brain like a haunting scream.

When I finally do start to focus on my surroundings, I look back down to my hand that's now miraculously somehow bandaged. How it happened is a mystery.

Searching the room, I notice that I somehow ended up back in my bedroom. Asher is kneeled in front of me with a petrified look on his face. Ora is standing behind Asher with furrowed brows and his arms crossed across his chest looking down at me. Fully concerned.

Without a thank you or even ushering a single word to them, I stand up from my bed, grabbing my backpack, I toss it over my shoulder and exit my room.

Walking down the hall of the Academy I'm slightly thankful that my first class is Combat Training with Coach Massy. At least this way I can work out some of my frustrations, hopefully. I need a outlet.

Entering the gym, I turn on my heels heading in quickly to the changing rooms.

I ignore the other students, I change into to my gym gear and head out anxious to get to the punching bag. Even with my bandaged up hand I want to hit something. I have to hit something.

The punching bag is on the further side of the gym room, as soon as I get to the center of gym floor gunshots ring out in the Academy behind the closed gym doors.

Every student in the gymnasium comes to stand still in total shock, then all of the sudden they start to panic.

I watch, as they all take off running to the area located just behind the bleachers. Each one stumbling over the other to get to a safe haven. Screaming can be heard from all of them. They are all hysterical.

Coach Massy is directing them to take cover. Guiding them under the bleachers.

Like that's going to protect them!

Idiots!

I stand there immobilized in the center of the gymnasium, staring at the giant red gym doors. Listening to the gun shots being fired occasionally outside of them, hypnotized.

Coach Massy screams my name when I don't reply to him he rushes out from under the bleachers coaxing me by pushing my shoulders to get me to move faster.

"Move Demonas!" He demands of me. I slowly make my way under the pulled out bleachers with the other whimpering students.

Most are scrunched down trying to shield theirselves from whatever terror is beyond the door.

This is a supernatural school for fuck sakes! Why are they so damn frightened? Shouldn't they be able to use their abilities to fight off whatever or whoever is shooting the guns in the Academy?

I scoff at their ridiculous behavior. Leaning up against the gym wall I eye each of them cowering in terror.

You think I would be the one frightened?

I'm not. I just feel nothing.

Not a damn thing.

I'm an hollowed out empty shell created by him.

I'm completely nothing.

Just fucking numb.

It's amazing to me how easily it was for him to turn me into this vacant being. This shallow emptiness.

The gym doors crash open suddenly making the students startle and sending everyone that's under the bleachers with me into a full blown panic. The whimpering and crying are starting to getting on my damn nerves.

Shaking my head again at their antics, I start creeping slowly to an opening off of the bleachers seats trying to observe exactly what is happening.

There's three giant men standing in the center of the gym angrily talking, each one of them are holding some type of rifle in there hands.

Edging my way to the end of the bleachers opening, I crane my neck to get better view of them.

I don't recognize two of the assailants but the third guy I definitely recognize. I know him personally.

What the actual fuck?

"Braxton?" I thought I said his name low enough that they wouldn't hear me but apparently I got a bigger mouth then I actually realized.

Braxtons head snaps quickly in my direction. He notices me straight away. A sly little smirk appears on his rugged face as soon as he spots me.

"Just the person I was looking for." He remarks joyfully.

He did all of this because of me? Well of course he did what else should I be expecting. If there's trouble lurking around it's going to find me one way or the other apparently.

It's like I'm a gluttony for madness.

A beacon for the deprave.

I half laugh at the absurdity, it all seems ridiculous, without hesitation I gradually make my way over to Braxton.

I just don't give a shit anymore. If Braxton has come here looking for me then what's the fucking use of running. If he wants me then that's exactly what he's going it.

When I get to him and his goons I circle around him eyeing him curiously. Stopping directly in front of him, I stand my ground, crossing my arms across my chest and glaring up him down.

"You found me. Now what?" Braxton is a at loss for words. His shocked expression actually makes me want to laugh. But I don't.

When he doesn't reply to me only watching me with confusion written on his face I have this sudden urge inside of me to push his damn buttons.

"You came here loaded," I point to the gun his hand, "lock, stock, and barrel. Aiming for me? Then what are you waiting for?" He's stunned!

If I had a sense of humor at this moment I would breaking out with laughter at his shocked expression.

Some bad guy he's turning out to be.

Getting frustrated at his lack of ambition I grab the his guns barrel, placing the muzzle of it on the center my forehead dramatically.

"Do it! You would be doing me a favor!" I scream. Braxton furrows his brows. The moron!

"What happened to you Jaci?" He asks me quietly.

"Either do it or have one of your goons do it! Isn't this what you came here for? Didn't you want to kill me? Why are wasting precious time Braxton? You've never been the type to procrastinate before so why are you now?" He eyes me curiously. Clearly bewildered at my outburst.

"Jaci." He drags my name out like it's damn a prayer.

It's kind of funny!

"I'm nothing Braxton. I'm hollow. Numb. I don't care anymore. About me. About anything. So do it. Please. Just do it." I beg.

I didn't notice that I was crying till I felt the tears falling down my face.

When I realize that Braxton isn't going to do what he came here for, I drop my hand away from the barrel of his gun, sighing.

I'm so fucking tired. My eyes are drooping. My body is dragging. I feel so fucking weak. I can't keep going.

I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of the worry. I'm tired of the pain. The heartbreak. The sorrow. I'm tired. Just so fucking tired.

"If your not going to kill me then hand me the gun and I'll do it myself." I barely drag out the words. I'm over emotional. I can't take this anymore. I'm done. So done. I quit!

"Jaci." How many times is Braxton going to repeat my damn name? Ugh!

"Jaci." Scrunching my eyebrows in confusion I realize that Braxton wasn't the one saying my name. A different voice invades my tantrum.

Looking pass Braxton I see all of my mates standing at the gym door staring at me closely. Each with shocked and worried faces.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

No! No!

They heard everything I said to Braxton. Now they know exactly how I feel and for some reason that simply terrifies me.

The two goons of Braxtons sees my mates standing at the gym door and take off out the side door of the gym dropping their guns on the floor with a loud clatter.

I watch as the guns hit the floor.

All I have to do is quickly reach for one and grab it before anyone could do anything about it.

It would be over.

I would be free.

I rush forward, landing on my knees, grabbing one of the guns that's closer to me off of the gymnasium floor.

With the priceless gun in my hand, I stare down at it hauntingly.

Just one swift shot and all of my nightmares will be over. My pain will be gone. I can rest. It would finally come to an end. Just one shot is all it will take.

One second and it will be finished.

I take the gun in my hand carefully placing the muzzle on the side of my head. My tears keep falling.

I place my finger on the trigger. Ready to end it all.

I freeze!

I want the pain to end so badly. I want this emptiness to go completely away.

But I can't squeeze it. I can't do it.

Why can't I do it!?

I hear feet pounding on the gymnasium floor. The gun is swiftly removed from my hand. My hand drops on to my lap. I sit there on the floor crying and sobbing my eyes out.

I'm engulfed into welcoming arms. It's all just too much. I can't handle it.

I get nauseous. I start to sweat.

My world falls out from under me.

Ora

She needs help!

More than we can provide her with. We have been trying countless times to talk to her about everything that happened to her but all it seems to accomplish is pushing her away from us even further.

When I pulled the gun out of her hands today was when the realization hit me. I almost lost her. She's hurting so badly that she wanted to take her own life. It rendered me speechless. Seeing her so lost, so distraught, angers me.

I've never been through what she's been through so how I'm I suppose to know how to help her?

After what I witnessed in the gymnasium today I decided that I'm not the one who will be able to help her cope with her assault.

None of us will able too.

Although I wish I could. I'm not capable of solving this certain problem.

All I know how to do is to be there for her whenever she might need me and love her through it.

But it's not enough.

I thought about having her talk with her Uncle Liam but changed my mind quickly with that assumption. She needs someone that's not close to her to vent to and he would not be able to provide the help for her like she needs it in the long run.

So in the end I decided that I'm contacting a therapist for her today. Someone who may be able to help her more than we ever possibly can.

But right now I have finish my own session with a certain blonde devil I have captured here in my dungeon.

We found her stupid ass yesterday. When she was trying her best at hiding from us with a guy from Pattens gang. He gave her up far too easily for a little bit cash to line his pocket. The bitch didn't realize that the guy she was shacking up with was actually spy for us penetrating Pattens gang undercover.

Faron and Asher had the joy of destroying Max. I get the joy of destroying her.

When Cal informed me of Cynthia's betrayal I almost wanted to shout out in relief. At least this way she's giving me the opportunity to get her out of my life permanently.

"Why?" I grit out my answer.

I have her tied up in a small metal chair near the boxing ring in the center of the dungeon.

When we captured her she was in bed with Jamal our own little spy, in throes of passion. We managed to get our hands on her before she was able to reach her climax. Which gave me a small thrill all on its own.

I knew she was a low down dirty slut but I never actually realized how much of one she literally was.

"You know why!" She finally replies.

She's a mess. Her hair is disheveled, sticking up all over the place. The ropes she is bound with are cutting through her skin leaving red whelps across her chest and abdomen.

I could care less about her discomfort. She deserves this for betraying us. She promised me that she would show up that night to help but she left us hanging because she fucking hates Jaci.

She put Jacis life at risk because of her selfish behavior and the bitch could actually care less about it.

Well I'm here to show her just how much she fucked up and I plan to do it in a painfully excruciating way.

"I know your jealous of Jaci. I know your selfish and I also know that you fucked up when you didn't even bother to show your face when I ask you so nicely to do so." I grab a pair of pliers off of the little metal table that I had the guys place in here earlier. It's loaded with all sorts of fun equipment for my torturing pleasure.

Slowly making my way back to Cynthia, I kneel down in front of her smiling at her devilishly. I show her the pliers in my hand waving it back and forth in front of her.

Her eyes widen in pure terror.

"Ora please. I....love you. I did it because I....wanted you Ora. I thought if I could....get her out of the way then you would see....how right I am for you." She tries her best to plead with me.

"So you did it so we could be together?" I ask her not so innocently. I'm trying to test her resolve.

"Yes. Yes. I know you love me baby. I know you're only with her because of your brothers. You wanted to make them happy. I understand why you're with her. Please Ora release me and I will show you how much I love you. Please baby." She begs.

"So I'm with Jaci because I want to make my brothers happy? You don't think it's because I love her?" I mock her.

"No. I know you don't love her. I'll prove how much I love you though Ora just give me a chance." Her pleading is starting to get on my last damn nerve.

She must think I'm clueless. If she wants to play this lying game then I'll let her play. It could actually be fun. Let's see how far she'll go before she actually breaks.

Instead of replying to her, I stand up directly in front of her. I place the pliers in my back pocket and unbutton my jeans slowly while she watches me.

Pulling my dick out from my jeans, I start to glide my hand along my shaft exquisitely slow.

"Is this what you want Cynthia? Would you like to suck my cock. Do you want to choke on it?" She nods her head vigorously. I can see the lust in her eyes.

The fucking whore.

Despicable.

"Do you see how limp it is Cynthia? It's because I'm thinking of you. Jaci gets me hard just from me thinking about her. But you? You make me fucking sick!" Pushing my limp cock back into my jeans quickly. I grab the pliers out my back pocket, kneeling down in front of her again.

"Time for the games to begin. Each nail I pull off of your fingers is for each time I had to put up with your skanky ass. Then I'm going to start on your little toes. Each toenail I pull off will be for each time your disrespected my mate. My true love. My Queen!" I happily tell her.

It's time for the games to begin!